


The Nature of Men

by Warg_Scout_Cookies



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Birard is Girion's secret half-brother, Dubious Consent, Give Birard a chance- He's smoking hot! (Think Bard- only more distinguished), M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Original Male Character- Birard, Prostitution, Virginity Loss, Young Thorin, prince Thorin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 09:25:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12909039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warg_Scout_Cookies/pseuds/Warg_Scout_Cookies
Summary: The young Dwarf Prince took work where he could find it... laboring in the villages of Men.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not my characters- except for Birard and some nameless lakemen.

It had only been a short while since the dragon, Smaug reigned terror down upon the city of Dale and invaded the halls of Erebor.  Thorin, along with many of the other dwarves had taken up work in the man built town of Esgaroth.  (Or Laketown, as many referred to the water based refuge.)  

Thorin found that he was best suited for smithing.   As a Prince, he was not used to hard, back-breaking labor but like all dwarves, he possessed a natural talent for the craft of molding tools and weapons from blazing-hot metal.  The money was consistent, yet still not nearly enough to get his people back on their feet.

After one particularly long, arduous day of hammering over a sweltering furnace, Thorin felt the urge for a well-deserved drink.  The night air was cool and comforting as a gentle breeze blew over the water of the surrounding lake.

The Dwarf Prince made his way to a nameless tavern on the far side from where he worked and dwelled.  He was not in the mood for any chit chat with his usual dwarven company.  

The long walk had done him good and he was thankful that he did not recognize any of the faces in this tavern full of Men.  Even more thankful was he, that no one here seemed to recognize _him_.

The ale was blessedly stout and the liquor poured freely, making Thorin's body feel at ease while his thoughts focused only on his people and their homeland.

 

He wasn't sure how much time had passed or exactly how many drinks he'd had when a stranger's deep, raspy voice suddenly shattered his pensive brooding.  "I don't believe I have seen you in this tavern before..." whispered a tall, moustached man with fiercely dark eyes and wavy, shoulder length hair of the same shade.

"I do not see what business that is of _yours,"_   replied Thorin as his hand moved threateningly toward his newly forged blade.

The man was completely unperturbed by the dwarf's demeanor.  He calmly asked, "What if I would like to _make_ it my business?" as he dropped a small, leather pouch onto the crude, wooden table top.

Thorin heard the unmistakable clinking of coins within that pouch, causing him to look up questioningly at the unknown interloper.  "What did you have in mind?" he asked suspiciously.

The man lowered his face down closer to the dwarf's and gruffly whispered, " _twenty_ coins to feel that beautifully bearded mouth of yours wrapped around my cock... if you think yourself worthy, that is." 

Clearly and shockingly, this man seemed dead serious.  Once again, Thorin found himself reaching for his weapon while the man laughed nonchalantly. 

The Lakeman pulled the string of the pouch open to reveal the shining silver pieces inside.  It was man made currency from Dale and as soon as Thorin saw it with his own eyes, his conviction waned a bit.  He looked once more to the man presenting it to him.

"There is a place out back where no one would see us," breathed the looming stranger, causing the Dwarf Prince to shudder at the thought.  He could not _possibly_ even be considering such a vulgar and demeaning act.  Going from proudly standing in line to the throne of Erebor- to on his knees, sucking dick for pay behind a dark, dirty tavern would not be and option for Prince Thorin.

Tensing his jaw, he shook his head slowly in decline of the lewd proposition, never having felt so insulted or disgusted.  But before he could think of what to say, the man backed off, smiled and said, "That's alright, here- for your time..." as he flipped one of the coins onto the table, then swaggered away through the back exit of the tavern.

Thorin was perplexed.  He quickly grabbed the valuable token and examined it's purity and craftsmanship.  It alone- was worth _significantly_ more than the handful of copper and bronze pieces he'd earned for his grueling day of blacksmithing.  While his mind felt pulled, torn and grappling with decision- Thorin knew that _twenty_ of these coins would ensure food, clothing and medical supplies for he and his kin to last for weeks.

Suddenly he felt a duty to his people to do what he'd promised them. As the second Prince of Erebor, Thorin knew he should't be too proud to do whatever he could to help them all.  _'For Erebor...'_  he thought to himself as he swigged down the last of his brandy in one harsh, burning gulp.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Hoping the man hadn't gotten too far away by now, Thorin discreetly made his way out the back door and into the crisp night air.

"I thought you'd never show," said a low, scratchy voice from seemingly out of nowhere.  Thorin looked in all directions- seeing no one, but recognizing the voice all-too-clearly. 

"What are you doing? Where are you hiding?" growled Thorin before the man stepped out form the maze of stacked wooden casks and crates whilst chuckling and jingling the coins in his pocket.

Thorin took a deep breath, then stepped forward to follow the Lakeman back into the hiding spot.  The black haired stranger wasted no time in pulling his half-hard cock out of his trousers.

Thorin felt horrified, he could not believe he was actually resorting to being a cock sucking whore for the sake of his kingdom.  _'For Erebor...'_ he thought once again as he sank slowly down to his knees.

The man gently guided Thorin's face closer to his lengthening genitals.

The Prince's stomach tuned and he nearly vomited as his lips parted and he took in the scent, taste and _feel_ of having a man's cock in his mouth for the very first time.  He could feel his limbs trembling as if he were freezing, even though it was only mildly chilly out there by the water and he was fully clothed.

The man had felt it too and tried to his best to calm the anxious, young dwarf, stroking his thick mane and whispering huskily, "It's okay baby... just take it slow and remember to breathe through your nose."  

The Prince found the man's soft words and tender caresses to be both repulsive and encouraging at the same time.  Once he was able to regulate his breathing, Thorin's convulsions ebbed and his jaw relaxed.  He tried his best not to gag as the man thrust his cock in and out of his mouth in a firm, steady rhythm.

 _"Mmnngh!_ Yeah, suck it, baby... _aghh_... so fucking good," panted the Lakeman as he pulled Thorin's mouth down harder and began increasing his pace.

All thoughts were driven far from Thorin's mind, as he let his mouth do what the man wanted of him, in order to get this filthy nightmare over with. He worked his lips and tongue in undulating motions as he sucked hard, in the desperate hope that he was doing it right.

The man's increasingly loud gasps and grunts seemed to confirm that he was until he found himself being stilled by the man's hand on his shoulder.  Thorin was confused for a brief moment until the Lakeman said, "You don't have to swallow."

Thorin could not bring himself to make eye contact with him, so he just resumed mindlessly sucking until he felt the man's cock begin to twitch and pulse, gagging him with a series of cum-gushing waves. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he choked it down in large, sputtering gulps.

 

Afterwards, Thorin stayed crouched on his knees, as the Lakeman put his nearly flacid cock back into his pants. "I told you... you did not need to do that," he panted raggedly, while helping Thorin to his feet and offering him a clean handkerchief.

The Prince wiped the fluids from his beard in a dazed-like state of illusion, wondering,  _'Why did I do that?'   _

 Without wanting to analyze further, the dwarf simply stated "Just making sure I earned every bit of my payment" as he held his hand out for the bag of silver coins.

"Indeed, and _then_ some..." replied the Lakeman, placing the promised reward into Thorin's palm. 

The Prince had his riches and now wanted no further interaction with this man.  He handed the handkerchief back, only to hear the man say, "Keep it- you'll need it if you're to come back tomorrow night."  Thorin fumed at the Lakeman's audacity until the stranger reached into his pocket, pulled out two gold coins and placed them into the soiled handkerchief.  He quickly smiled and nodded at Thorin before turning around and disappearing out into the on coming fog over the docks.

Thorin gazed down at the silver which he held in on one hand and the unexpected gold pieces he held in the other.  In that moment he felt both sick-with and proud-of himself at the same time.  Suddenly he began shaking, almost uncontrollably- so much-so that he nearly dropped his coins into the dark water below.

Quickly, he secured them in his pocket as his teeth chattered and his stomach heaved.  Thorin's head spun, sweat beaded his brow...  He felt queasy and faint, then all at once- everything rushed together and became far too much for his mind to handle, so his body reacted instead.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Birard's heart sank as he watched from around a dark corner while Thorin buckled over and regurgitated a belly full of alcohol and cum down into the shadowy lake.  _'The_ _Prince will learn in time...'_   he thought to himself as he turned and went back into the tavern.

The man wasn't stupid.  He'd known from the moment Thorin had stepped into that establishment that the grandson of the mighty Thror would be sucking his cock tonight.  ' _Perhaps if Thorin hadn't been so concerned with crowns and treasure, he would have known he'd just whored himself out to the younger, half-brother of the recently deceased Lord Girion,'_ thought the Lakeman.

Birard grinned brightly to himself as he enjoyed another round of ale with his company.  It was his first genuine smile since the fiery death of his brother.  He hadn't necessarily thought to _disgrace_ the Dwarven Prince, although he wasn't exactly trying to _help_ him either- though ultimately he'd succeeded in doing both.

"Cheers!" he shouted to a table full of enthusiastic comrades, not feeling the need to say out loud as to what.  They knew they'd eventually get their turns and so they crashed their steins together over the wooden surface.  "Aye! Here-Here!!!"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thorin felt even more empty, hollow and used with every step he took towards the small house he shared with Balin and Dwalin.  Each pace caused the coins in his coat pocket to jingle as if taunting him with the inevitable notion that this would not be his last time to earn such a handsome reward for such heinous deeds.

At least the man hadn't been rough or demanding.  In fact, he had been extremely generous and considerate- _'not to mention highly attractive...'_

By the time Thorin entered into his humble dwelling, only Balin was still awake.  "Ever the night owl," said Thorin softly as he removed his thick, leather boots.

"You know I'll always wait up for ye', laddie.  Now where have you been?" asked the elder dwarf with a slight twinkle in his eyes.

Thorin returned Balin's warm smile, before pulling the pouch full of coins out from his pocket and placing them before his trust worthy cousin.  "See that this is well-spent."

The Prince averted his eyes form the wise, older dwarf as Balin carefully untied the leather pouch and poured it's contents onto the table.  Nineteen silver coins and two gold ones splayed out, gleaming in the flickering fire light.  "How on Middle Earth did you come by _these_?!" questioned Balin after inspecting a few of them with his teeth and magnifying glass.

"I won them... in a bet against a drunken dolt in a tavern," answered Thorin with a thin smile, while his eyes shone of pure shame. 

"Well... congratulations, then laddie.  I've kept the stew on for ye'.  Eat up now and get some rest.  I'll see to the finances in the morning."  Balin gathered the much-needed wealth and patted Thorin on the back for it.  He gingerly went into the room he shared with his younger brother, leaving Thorin alone with his thoughts- hopeful (yet doubtful) that the Prince's words had been honest.

Thorin was more appreciative of the warm stew, than he would have been for all the treasure in the land at that moment.  He hadn't even realized how badly his empty, acid-washed stomach had been camping until the knots finally relaxed after the first bowl-full.  A few rolls of bread, along with another helping of chicken and dumplings had the Prince's body in a near comatose state.

He flipped his one silver coin around in his fingers, contemplating the justification of his actions.  Those two extra gold pieces hadn't even been part of the deal.  He'd gone above and beyond in his efforts and now his people would prosper all the more for it.  _'This is what Kings do to earn their crowns,'_  thought the Prince as he drifted off to sleep, slumped over in the uncomfortable, wooden arm chair in front of the dying coals of the hearth. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Thorin awoke, he found a large fur draped over him and a pillow under the side of his head.  And most-grateful he was for it, otherwise he would surely have endured hours of shivering along with a terrible crick.

He and Balin nodded silently toward one another over breakfast as Dwalin spoke of the possibility of re-taking the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria.  Thror and Thrain (who were currently personal guests of the Master of Laketown) would be the deciding factors, but in the meantime it was up to Thorin to get their army strong enough to march on.  That meant gaining enough wealth to stock and supply hundreds with armor, weapons, food, aid, shelter and numerous other supplies over an unknown period of time.

There was no other choice- he knew that now.  He'd found a means of earning money without having to spend twelve hours slaving over hot coals for a few measly tokens of copper, bronze or bartered supplies.  This way, he could maintain an honest living during the day, but come night-fall was when he would earn the _real_ riches for his brethren.

 

Thorin pounded his way through work with mad ferocity that day, even earning him a few extra coppers from his employer for his outstanding output of tools and weaponry.  He couldn't help but almost laugh at the juxtaposition between hours of such grueling, physically intensive labor- slaving so hard for a few menial bits of cheap currency, versus a few minutes of doing nothing but sucking and swallowing to be rewarded with a generous amount silver and even some actual _gold._

 

After his work day was done, Thorin hastily found his way to the tavern without a name to meet the man who lacked one as well.

There he was- the man with the ebony-eyes... His tanned skin radiated with the glow of being out in the sun on a daily basis. He was surrounded by a group of laughing, boisterous men, who seemed to find a reason to raise their steins and snifters upon the end of every sentence spoken.

Thorin sat at the same small, table he had the night before, waiting to be noticed.  When the barmaid came, he ordered only a glass of water and some bread.

The moment she'd sat the mug and plate down, a hand had caught her wrist.  "I apologize for the inconvenience mi'lady but I believe we will be requiring two racks of lamb along with two glasses of your finest port."

The Prince glared across the crudely built table in the corner of the tavern as the Lakeman smiled wryly at Thorin.  "My treat," he said whilst lifting up his glass of deeply hued wine, the instant the maid had brought it to the table.

Thorin did not know what to think.  Trying his best to ignore the eyes on he and his companion, Thorin cautiously raised his glass and took a sip, almost as if he expected the drink to be poisoned.

But the wine was nothing short of strong and velvety, and to that Thorin had no complaints of.  Even more so when their dishes arrived. The meat was tender, succulent and cooked to perfection- a _blessed_ departure from the scraps of poultry or fish he'd recently become accustomed to and ever-grateful for.

During their meal, Thorin did not look up once, nor did he speak.  He simply took in every last bite and drink of the wine, water, lamb, potatoes and collared greens until the empty plates were removed from the table.

Only the wine glasses remained by the order of the unnamed gentleman.  "You may leave us with the remainder of the bottle," he'd said to the barmaid, making Thorin feel very nervous. 

The dwarf whispered quietly over their glasses, "I do not need to be drunk in order to... _service you."_

The Lakeman laughed in a way that Thorin was unwittingly becoming fast-accustomed to.  "Oh my dear, dwarfling... I know why you are here.  Let's say we go ahead and get the monetary details sorted out, now shall we?"  He smiled as he discreetly handed Thorin a pouch of coins (albeit, half the weight from the night before). 

"There are ten silvers in here and they are yours already for having been polite enough to share this lovely dinner with me."

The Prince was bewildered.  He'd come here expecting to slink to his knees in degradation- yet instead he'd found himself being treated to a fine meal and still _paid_ for naught but his company.  It didn't make sense... _'It has to be some kind of trap...'_   Thorin knew better than to fall for it.  _'No one ever gets something for nothing. This man could be anyone\- looking to exploit me for a number of reasons,'_  he thought to himself.  Thorin felt _very_ on-guard and apparently the Lakeman had picked op on it.

Birard rested a gentle hand over Thorin's as he feigned a yawn with the other and said, "Thank you, kind sir for you companionship this evening.  Please enjoy the rest of the wine, as I am much too tired to continue on..."

Then without another word, the man was gone- out the front doors and into the dark night. 

As Thorin palmed the bag of coins, his experienced hand told him that there were not _ten_ pieces as the man had originally said.  Sure enough upon peering inside, he saw that there were in fact _eleven_ coins- with the extra one being made of gold, rather than silver.

Without thought, he sprang up from his seat, leaving half-a-bottle of paid-for-wine at the table and bolted out the doors. 

 

The settling fog over the water prevented Thorin from being able to see in either direction, but he heard faint foot-steps leading away from only one.  As he slowly approached from behind, the movement ceased and a familiar voice broke through the stillness of the darkening night.  "Your know, the _wise_ would take their money and run with it.."

"I am no beggar- I _earn_ my wages and _this_ is no exception," stated the Prince in such an authoritative way, Birard's cock instantly stiffened and the hairs all over his chest, arms and neck prickled up.

The Lakeman smiled that wicked smile of his, then said, "Well-  if you must  _insist_..." as he slunk back into a dark crevice between two buildings.  Thorin followed and once they were in a secure spot, the Prince lowered to his knees while the man offered up his dripping-hard cock.

Thorin remembered his lesson from the night before and this time, he kept his breathing steady as he alternated his mouth between licking and sucking until the man came hard and fast into the young dwarf's mouth.

Birard had tried to warn Thorin of his impending orgasm but the Prince seemed hell-bent on proving his worth.  He'd wanted so badly to scream out Thorin's name as he emptied his cock down the dwarf's throat.

Afterwards, instead of voicing his approval, the man pulled Thorin up into his arms and held him for a brief moment before disappearing once more.

Not until Thorin was half-way home did he realize that _both_ of his pockets were jingling. ( _Inside_ pockets at that- If the man had been able to slip something _onto_ his person so easily, he'd also have been able to seize Thorin's closely guarded weapons, without him even being aware.)  The thought did not settle well with the Prince.  However the second pouch of ten silver pieces and one gold did appease him most certainly.

When he got home, Balin and Dwalin were sitting in the firelight, finishing up a friendly game of cards.  Thorin dropped both bags down into their jack-pot of walnuts and figs, smiled halfheartedly at the brothers, then went silently into his room.  Exhausted- he dreamlessly slept off a hard day's work along with a good dinner and a stranger's cum in his stomach.

Dwalin was just about to jump up and go ask Thorin where he got those twenty two, suspicious looking coins from, but Balin stayed his younger brother.  "Now don't be bothering the Prince- he's worked hard for us and needs not be questioned about it."  The axe bearing warrior grumbled something under his breath before marching off to his own bed, leaving the card game unfinished. Balin sighed as he took the coins and put out the fire.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young, Dwarf Prince took work where he could find it... laboring in the villages of Men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my characters- except for Birard and some nameless lakemen.  
> *WARNING!- Even though there is no actual rape in this story, some readers may still find certain elements to be triggering. So please proceed with caution.

The next night at the tavern, Thorin was immediately joined by his unnamed acquaintance along with the half-bottle of port form the previous evening.  The Prince found that he actually had somewhat of a nice time in this cozy, little tavern with this very chivalrous and well-spoken man. (Until of course, it was time for him to go out back and earn his pay.)

 

Time went by this way for a few weeks until the night came when Thorin arrived home with one-hundred pieces of silver and two of gold.

"You've got to stop placing these.. _. bets_ , laddie- before something gets out of hand," spoke Balin quietly as he passed an embered pipe to Thorin.  The Prince exhaled a cloud of mind-numbing smoke as he somberly said "...for Erebor."  Balin sighed, grimly before reluctantly agreeing "Aye- for Erebor."

Thorin lied awake that night, thinking of all the misdeeds he'd committed for the good of his people.  The man's four friends had been just as considerate and Thorin found that he could bear it, so long as he never opened his eyes to the sight of their cocks invading his mouth.

Unlike with his original partner, he did not swallow the cum of the other men.  He'd hold it in his mouth until he received his payment, then turn his head and spit it into the lake water below, more often than not- hearing laughter following- no matter how discreet he tried to be about it.

Eventually the question was proposed; one Thorin never even wanted to consider, but for the sake of the dwarves- he knew it would all come down to it in time.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Thorin wiped the last of Birard's release from his mouth with his handkerchief as he voiced his objections.  "You and your friends are _one_ thing but _THIS_ \- what you speak of...  No, I could not- I have standards.  I have a NAME to uphold!"  

"And just what name is that?" taunted the Lakeman, but Thorin remained firm.  "The answer is NO!"

Birard smiled, his dark eyes glinting devilishly as he purred, "I understand, however I would like to offer you _this_ as a gesture of my _personal_ gratitude..." 

Thorin's eyes _danced_ as he gazed upon the magnificent emerald necklace, set with hundreds of the brilliant, green gems.  The dwarf was completely in awe if it's stunning beauty and value.

"...Consider it a departing gift.  I wish you nothing but luck in your future endeavors, wherever they may take you."  Birard smiled and nodded once, then moved to exit the room which they'd rented for the hour.

"Wait-" called Thorin. "Do you _swear_ to stay true to your word?"

The Lakeman sat down on the bed beside the Prince and began stroking his hair.  "Have I not proven myself already?  But if you would like to go over it _again_ \- Yes, that is the deal: I find you worthy clients and we spoil one another in turn- _NO_ holds barred.  When it comes to others, you will make the rules and I will enforce them.  You are  not a _whore_ and I am  not your _pimp._   We are both equal business associates who hold the power to terminate this agreement at any time without fear of repercussion."

Thorin felt nauseous as he agreed to the terms.  He'd wanted so badly to just keep things on a strictly _oral_ basis, but the man wanted more and was willing to pay him in solid gold for it.  That, along with the possibility of countless new "clients" meant that Thorin would be able to gather enough wealth to move his people back to the mountain much sooner and more comfortably than he'd ever thought possible.  His father and grandfather would be so proud... _'For Erebor...'_  he thought as he stripped off all of his clothing.

Birard took a moment just to enjoy the view before taking off his own clothes.  "Don't worry baby, I'll ease you into it slowly.."  He leaned in close, wrapped his arms around the trembling dwarf and kissed him passionately on the mouth.

Thorin had not expected _that_.  He'd had multiple men's cocks in his mouth almost every night for several weeks, but never one's _tongue._   The sensation was not entirely unpleasant.  In fact, Thorin found himself pulling the man in closer and sucking his tongue in deeper, enjoying the strong thrill it provided him.  He felt his cock stiffening as the Lakeman moved his kiss down onto the Prince's neck and chest.

Thorin could't help the soft gasps and moans which escaped through his wet, swollen lips.  But then suddenly his erection faltered when the man whispered ominously into his ear, "Time for you to get down on all fours."

The Prince's entire body shook with reluctant anticipation as he did what the man had instructed.  This was not a date, after all- it was a business meeting and they had just made a new deal.  Thorin had no choice but to uphold his end of the bargain and so he held his breath and shut his eyes tightly as the Lakeman moved behind him and began running his hands over the hard, round muscles of Thorin's ass-cheeks.

Birard's mouth watered and his cock throbbed at the sight of the young, beautiful Dwarf Prince all bent over and ready to take it.  He spread Thorin's cheeks apart to reveal his untouched, virgin hole.  It was so tempting to lean in for a taste, but he did not want either of them getting used to such a sweet sensation, then having to stop when Thorin inevitably would begin allowing his body to be filled by others on a regular basis.  Also, they did not have all night in this room...

But still, he wanted to make it good for the Prince... or at the very least- _tolerable._ The Lakeman put two of his fingers in his salivating mouth and wet them thoroughly before touching them to Thorin's twitching hole.

The frightened dwarf's body seized at the feel of the man's fingers massaging all over a place that had never been touched by anyone before.  Slowly and gently, Birard twisted his index finger inside, letting it sink in all the way up to his knuckle.  Thorin's breath hitched in his throat as his mind and body went into total shock.  The physical sensation wasn't particularly _painful_ but it did feel extremely _wrong._

Birard gave Thorin a brief moment to catch his breath before sliding in a second finger.  _Now_ Thorin felt the stinging pain of his asshole being stretched and worked by the man's fingers- spreading, twisting and thrusting roughly within him.

The Prince's vision blurred and his body glistened in a cold sweat as his business associate asked him "Does that feel good, baby?"  Thorin could barely even breathe, let alone _talk_ but then the man spoke once more.  "Do not expect this kind of generosity from your other clientele... But don't worry, by the time you get to that point, I will have trained your body to endure it."

Thorin could not bear the thought of what the man was implying- he had no plans of letting _anyone_ else use his body like this.  So he let go of all thoughts other than of Erebor and just told the Lakeman what he wanted to hear.  _"Nngh_ \- Yes! So good... Please don't stop!" 

Birard felt a hot surge of fiery lust rip through every vein in his body, strait down to his cock at the dwarf's wanton plea.  "I do believe then... that you are ready now," he growled with arousal and determination in his voice.  He withdrew his fingers, giving Thorin no reprieve in the interim-  Immediately he began pressing the thickened head of his cock into Thorin's ass, forcing the tight ring of muscle to burst open, and give way for his shaft to inch deeper and deeper inside until fully sheathed in the Prince's spasming channel. 

Thorin's ass burned with searing pain as his head became foggy and delirious, almost as if he were drowning.  He gasped for air, but none seemed able to enter into his lungs.

 _"Arrgh!_ Baby, you're so fucking _tight!"_ grunted Birard as he ground his cock in hard and deep, savoring the feeling of breaking the Dwarven Prince- giving Thorin what he'd never had before.  Thorin moaned in agony as the man's thick cock began moving inside of him. Birard had started slowly, letting Thorin adjust for a few easy thrusts, then wasted no more time in getting to the point of full-force fucking.

Shock-waves overwhelmed Thorin's body over and over again as the Lakeman pounded harder and deeper with each invasion of his cock into the dwarf's tight, wet heat. 

"Do you want it harder?" 

The Prince knew the right answer, even if it was the last thing he wanted to say.  "YES- HARDER!... _Mmngh!_ Fuck me  harder!!!" he begged as tears fell from his eyes. 

Birard did not hold back.  This experience was for _his_ pleasure- not Thorin's.  The dwarf was in training and needed to learn how to handle it hard and rough... So that's how he gave it to him.

Birard savagely brutalized the virile young Prince until he was filling Thorin's ass with pulsing waves of hot, slick cum.  Immediatley upon pulling out, he gave Thorin a swift, firm smack to his ass-cheek, causing the Prince's body to reflexively jump.

"You certainly have earned your gold tonight..." breathed the Lakeman as he tried not to laugh at the dwarf's shameful display.  Thorin hurriedly scrambled to get his clothing back on.  Then without another word, nor glance he gathered up his earnings along with the gifted necklace and left as quickly as possible.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thorin could feel every step he took reverberate throughout his abused body.  He was in utter shock and disbelief of how low he had sunk.  But the weight of the treasure he carried did help to take some of the weight off of his heart. (To a certain degree.)

He'd already been seeing the difference in the prosperity of his fellow dwarves since he'd began bringing them these ill-gotten gains.  No longer, were so many of them without coats or shoes. No longer did they go to bed hungry at night.  And no longer did the sick die, instead of receiving medical treatment.  Soon they would be strong enough to make their way back to the mountain to defeat Smaug and reclaim Erebor.   

 

Suddenly Thorin found himself standing on his front stoop, staring at the splintery, wooden door.  It was late and Thorin hoped Balin would not be waiting up.  Upon entering, he found he would have no such luck.  Not only was Balin wide-awake, but Dwalin, Oin and Dori accompanied him around the hearth.

"Evening, laddie! Come sit and have a drink with us!" said Oin whilst offering Thorin a ceramic mug-full of brandy.  

The Prince instantly felt flushed and dizzy.  The room spun around him and he had no doubt of what was about to happen.  He'd barely made it to the toilet in time before the contents of his stomach came retching forth from his mouth in powerful heaves.  When he'd finally finished, he realized the strong contractions of his body had caused much of the Lakeman's sickening slime to leak out into the insides of his trousers.

Oin, with his trumpet to his ear had said, "That doesn't sound good, the lad might be very ill and possibly contagious." 

Dori suggested the lighter possibility that he may have just eaten some under-cooked fish.

"Too much to drink, is all!" stated Dwalin confidently before following up with, "Did you not see the way he was walking? And he got sick the second he saw that liquor!"  

Balin merely sighed and shook his head as Oin made his way to the kitchen to concoct an herbal tea which would be, "Guaranteed to ease his stomach and help him sleep." (According to the healer.)

 

Thorin did not even wait for the coals to heat the bathwater before submersing himself entirely.  He kept his head under the frigid water until his lungs burned from lack of oxygen.  Then, in one swift motion, he burst forth from the water, sending it splashing over the edges of the tub as he took in a deep gasp of air.

From that moment on- Thorin tried not to think of the recent past or foreboding months (possibly years) to come.  Instead he pictured the day which he would once-again stand proudly beside the King's throne as his father held position on the other side.  Once their kingdom was secured, Thorin would bestow upon his grandfather the dazzling emerald necklace which he'd acquired from the man in the cheap room.  He did not understand why the Lakeman would make him _work_ for simple coins, yet _gift_ him with something far more valuable for doing absolutely nothing.

Tomorrow, he would surrender all of his silver and gold to Balin, but the necklace he would keep for now...  Same with that first silver coin which had been given to him for naught but his time in the tavern, upon their introduction. (Or rather lack there-of.)  He'd kept it not for spending, but as a reminder that he was truly worth something and willing to to _anything_ to strengthen his people's well-being.  He'd kept it... _'For Erebor.'_

With that notion, Thorin finished washing, toweled-off and dressed himself in the clean, dry linens which Balin had been foresightful enough to leave in the bathing room for him.  He picked up his desecrated clothing from the floor, along with the evenings wages before quietly steeling off to his private bed-chamber. 

There, on the bed-side table, he found a pot of hot tea and a plate of warm bread, fried fish and potatoes.  The Prince smiled warmly to himself as he mentally thanked his kin for their silent support.  The food had eased the cramps in his gut, while the healing tea soothed his mind and body to the point of blissful exhaustion.  He was so grateful in that moment of his decision to stay with his people in the village, as opposed to the stuffy home of the Lake Master with his father and grandfather.  Thanks to Oin, Thorin slept more soundly that night, since before the dragon had taken Erebor.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young Dwarf Prince took work where he could find it... laboring in the villages of Men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my characters- except for Birard and some nameless lakemen.

The next morning, Thorin found himself in much better condition than he'd ever thought possible. (Considering last night's formidable events.)

Dwalin had already left for his job hauling in shipments from barges and Balin was just getting ready to head to the shop across the dock, where he worked at assembling and repairing clocks, pocket watches and various other trinkets.

"Here..." said Thorin as he held out the two heavy pouches with his eyes cast low.  The Prince was out the door before he could see the older dwarf's reaction to the suddenly and _drastically_  enriched "bet-winnings."

Balin waited until he heard Thorin's footsteps trail off before opening the bags.  The ever-increasing amount of silver, he was used to seeing- but all of this _gold_ at once like this, sent chills down the dwarf's spine.  A tear fell from each eye- One for gratitude and one for despair, as he closed the pouches of treasure and hid them safely, before heading out to earn himself a few bits of tin for the day.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As time went on, the gold and silver flowed in on a continual basis.  Birard would regularly bestow gifts of gems, silks, furs and leathers upon Thorin as the dwarf never ceased to amaze him with his willingness to learn his new trade.  Soon the offer of more treasure proved too great to resist as Thorin began to allow other men to take full advantage of his body for payment.

Every one of his clients were approved first, by the Lakeman.  Then their intentions would be told to Thorin before he met up with them, safe in the knowledge that the man vigilantly, yet undetectably stood guard- should anything go awry.

He knew never to get on a boat with a man unless it was docked and tied- lest he should be taken captive and kept as a slave.  He felt secure in the fact that _he_ was the one in ultimate control and would never be forced to do anything he did not agree to.  The Lakeman proved it to him by always staying hidden in a near-by location.

 

One night, a fisherman had tried to cheat Thorin out of some promised sapphires.  Birard, ever-the-skulker, appeared out of no where and boldly threatened the fisherman's life if he didn't pay up.  

Finally the fisher confessed that he'd lied about the sapphires, just so he could have his chance with the "dwarf whore of Laketown." 

Birard promptly slit his throat.

"Go home, I'll take care of this.." he'd told Thorin as he supplemented the Prince with his own gold and silver.

 After Thorin had quietly left, Birard took the dead body and loaded it onto the fisherman's own boat.  He weighted the corpse down, took it out into the night and dumped it into the dark water of the lake.

He then returned the boat to the dock and never spoke another word about it. (Not that anyone dared question him...)  Birard reveled in his new role of underground-Lord of Esgaroth.  

Eventually Thorin had to ask "How is it you are able to come upon such riches in such dark times?" 

The Lakeman couldn't bring himself to reveal that his maternal brother was the former Lord of Dale, and that their late mother had kept a secret hoard down in the Raven Hills for her less-fortunate son.  So instead he just said "How do any of us come by anything?"  

Thorin nodded and never questioned him again.

 

Birard had always lived in his half-brother's shadow.  Their mother had favored the eldest and _legitimate_ heir, while _he'd_ been forced to serve as a menial drudge.   He never knew his father- and his mother had never showed him much in the way of nurturing... but at least she'd given him a map to the secluded location before she died.    

He would tell potential clients that his Dwarf Prince was not for sale, eliciting rounds of haggling until Birard was satisfyingly bribed by fine imported goods and wealth. (Many of which he would gift to Thorin as incentive.)

He'd instructed the buyers to pretend they had no idea who Thorin was and to never leave him with so much as one bruise, or they would be dead by morning. 

Under Birard's deceptive leadership, Laketown was becoming more and more prosperous by the day.  He'd already seen to it that his widowed sister-in-law and infant nephew would be well-off, served by maids and nannies to help raise the child while Birard in turn, raised the City of Esgaroth.

 

Thorin had eventually gotten to the point of expecting equal amounts of silver and gold from each client.  

One night on his way home, he was passed by a man who'd just emerged from a very familiar, dark alley. The man tipped his hat to Thorin and silently carried on his way.  Then when Thorin looked down the alley, he saw a woman in a tattered dress, crouching down to pick up two copper coins from the ever-damp boardwalk.  Soon, she too was gone- having disappeared off into the misty darkness.

Thorin clutched at the hundreds of gold and silver pieces in his pocket, wondering what it was that made _him_ so much more valuable.

Several paces behind, Birard smiled to himself as he continued his secret watch.   He knew Thorin had a long walk home and he was not about to let his best asset be robbed or taken for ransom... or even worse- _slavery._   

The Prince continued acting as if he were unaware of the Lakeman's presence, something he'd long since gotten accustomed to.  He was actually very grateful for the man's protection.  On more than one occasion, Thorin had heard the pattern of encroaching footsteps, followed by a distinctive splashing sound... then silence.  He knew the expert archer would never let anyone get too close to him without his permission, although neither of them ever spoke about it.

 

Just as Birard had promised, Thorin's body soon got used to being fucked.  He never fought it but he never liked it either, nor had he ever _once_ been brought to climax himself.  He found the Lakeman's words from months back rang all-too-true about the usual clientele not giving a damn about Thorin's comfort.  He'd have been ripped to shreds had he not heeded the humiliating advice of oiling-up his own channel before setting out for the night.

Thorin found that his lessons in dirty-talk and begging also helped the experience to go by much faster.  He was quickly beginning to understand the nature of men.  _'For_   _Erebor...'_ he just kept telling himself as countless men shoved their cocks in his mouth and ass night-after-night.  Thorin hated himself more and more each time he had to pull his wet face up from a dirty mattress, wall or barrel while heaving for breath and shamefully gathering his earnings.

 

Balin made sure none of the other dwarves questioned the Prince.  He handled all the finances and kept a steady supply of tea and healing ointment on hand.  He distributed much of the gold, silver and other treasures discreetly among his people while keeping a healthy portion saved for their future.

Other than the one silver coin and jewel-encrusted necklace, Thorin kept none of the riches for his own.  Even after some of his more regular clients began directly gifting the dwarf with extra coins or gems, the only items Thorin ever purchased for himself were paid for with the honest money he'd earned during his day job.

Silk and velvet-clad dwarflings played and giggled in the streets behind him as Thorin toiled away over the hot coals and hard anvil, while wearing his usual, modest cotton and burlap.  The soles of his boots were becoming worn thin form walking across town every night, but it mattered-not to the Dwarf Prince, in fact he'd hardly even noticed until the Lakeman provided him with a pair of new ones along with a perfectly tailored new wardrobe.

"I am humbly in your debt," said Thorin as he dropped to his knees, ready to earn his profits.  The Lakeman smiled and said, "Get up, Thorin." 

The startled dwarf bolted upright in shock. _"WHAT_ did you just call me?"

"Please, let us stop pretending- we're quite past the point of games by now.  I've _always_ known who you are and what your end game is... You've been planning a quest with your kin, have you not?"

Thorin was panic-stricken.  He stilled in horror- nearly fainting.

"It's okay baby, I've already got everything all set up for you..." said Birard while stroking Thorin's hair for what he was certain would be the last time. 

The dwarf was trembling almost as much as he had during their first sexual encounters as he shook his head in denial.  

The Lakeman sighed and said; "Let's be realistic- we both knew the day would come when you'd be ready to lead on with your people to other lands.  When you feel ready to do so, I've got boats and bargemen under my hire to take the dwarves in whichever direction you choose to travel, along with supplies and rations to last for at least two months."  Then he smiled as he leaned in close and whispered "But of course... there is no hurry, _my Prince."_

Thorin's voice was dry and raspy as he simply stated, "We will be ready to depart at dawn." 

Birard looked at Thorin hesitantly for a moment before disputing. "It is already very late in the day, surely you would give them more time to-"  

"I SAID AT _DAWN!!!"_ shouted Thorin angrily, as he stormed off and headed back to his house to speak with Balin and Dwalin.

 

He was carrying nothing of value this night and as such, could only hope the Lakeman wasn't following him in the shadows as he usually did.  His thoughts had immediately shifted as he approached his front door and reached into his pocket for the key.  He found alongside it, a small, velvet pouch and a folded piece of parchment.  Quickly he stuffed them back inside and retreated into his demure domicile.

Balin and Dwalin averted their eyes, acting as if they hadn't even noticed the Prince's arrival. (Something they'd grown quite accustomed to doing over the last several months.)  He'd ignored them and marched strait into his room.  Under the light of the lantern, Thorin read the words on the note:  "He'd lied about nothaving them... found these hidden on his fishing boat..."

Then Thorin emptied some of the contents of the pouch into his palm.  His pupils dilated and his jaw dropped at the sight of his hand filled with glittering, cobalt jewels.  "Sapphires..." he whispered.  Thorin was too overcome by his lust for treasure to be even the slightest bit upset about his inner coat-pocket having been accessed once again.  _These_ \- he decided, must stay with _him_ , rather than going to Balin.  They were fare more precious than the topaz, amber and garnets which he'd previously surrendered to his kin.

Along with the emerald necklace, Thorin decided the sapphires would be a perfect gift for Thror when they celebrated the reclaiming of Erebor.  But in the mean time, he had to figure out just where the people of the kingdom would be going, come sunrise. 

After Thorin had spoken with his roommates, Balin sent Dwalin to gather some of the other dwarves to spread word of their upcoming venture.  The Prince was already busy packing up his belongings when his eldest cousin calmly questioned him as sympathetically as he could.  "Must we leave so soon, laddie? What's the hurry?... You've martyred and sacrificed yourself long enough. Why not take a few days to rest while Dwalin and I get the others properly organized?"

Thorin shrugged. Then suddenly his long-suppressed emotions welled up to near boiling point.  "Martyr... You do not even know the MEANING of the word MARTYR\- NOR SACRIFICE!!!  I have done HONORABLY by MY people by _DISHONORING_ myself in ways you could not POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND!!!" 

Balin felt the salty sting of tears threatening his eyes as he cast his gaze downward, choked down the lump in his throat and softly said; "Aye... Then we are with ye' laddie."  He'd just turned to walk out of Thorin's room, but stopped short when he hard a small whimper from behind him.  Upon turning back around, he saw the Prince's tear-streaked face and did not hesitate for a moment to embrace him in a strong, sobbing hug.

Their hearts bled for one another, both wanting so badly to apologize to the other for all the pain they'd endured.  But neither of the dwarves said anything until Dwalin arrived back with Oin and Dori.  

The five of them argued over which direction they should take, knowing that ultimately the decision would be up to the King.  Unfortunately they had no easy way of contacting him at this hour and could do nothing more than plan out the most logical course of action in the hopes that Thror would approve of it.

They'd decided it would be best to settle their people in the safety of the Blue Mountains for now with the future possibilities of retaking Moria and eventually Erebor.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thror and Thrain had received much of the treasure brought in by the increasing wealth of Esgaroth, however the Master of the township had taken credit for all the city's prosperity and claimed most of the King's gold for himself. 

Thror had already been discussing the abandonment of Laketown with his son, when his grandson arrived the next morning with the information that their departure was ensured and ready to set sail.

The King and High Prince were extremely impressed by Thorin's tactical leadership and initiative, which in turn made the younger Prince feel nothing but pride and justification for everything he'd done to get them to that point.

Like the trained warriors they were, Thror and Thrain had themselves and their belongings out of the Lake Master's estate before he'd even woken-up from his brandy-induced slumber.

 

When the Royals arrived at the docks, Thorin felt very strange and uncomfortable being there with his family.

Many of the men who were helping to load dwarven families and their cargo were clients he'd serviced on several occasions.  He quickly made an excuse to distance himself from his father and grandfather, but before he could get far enough away, he heard Thrain shout a name over his shoulder.

When Thorin turned to look, he saw his father gesturing to none other than the Lakeman himself.

"Birard!" the elder repeated. "I've not seen you since you were a wee-lad, scampering about the streets of Dale!"  The two shared a quick shoulder-to shoulder hug and they went on to exchange pleasantries and condolences with one another.

Thorin was frozen in place, feeling like his heart was caught in his throat.

"Son, I'd like you to meet Birard, half-brother to Lord Girion," said Thrain as he grasped Thorin's elbow.  The young Prince's clear, aquamarine eyes clashed violently with the dark, piercing stare of the man who'd changed him in ways he could never possibly explain to himself- let alone to anyone else.

Thorin held out his hand courteously to the man.  "It's a pleasure to meet you... _Birard."_

Birard grasped Thorin's thickly calloused palm, smiled warmly and said; "The pleasure is all mine... _my Prince."_ They bowed politely to one another and then both parted ways.

 

The entire dwarven company were all secured onto the boats as several of the locals waved their hats and handkerchiefs in farewell to the travelers.  As the ships set sail, Thorin could't help but look back one last time at the town he'd scathingly helped to build.

Then there he was- "Birard" as Thorin now knew, standing at the edge of the dock, staring strait at the young Prince.  Thorin held firmly onto a thick rope, beneath one of the large sails as he smiled and nodded at Birard whilst thinking to himself- _'For Erebor...'_ The Lakeman subtly returned the gesture before disappearing off into the crowd, never to be seen by the dwarf again.

 

                                                                                               

                                                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~*~ The End ~*~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, come on- we all know there were no sapphires on that fishing boat! Thranduil is gonna be PISSED OFF when he discovers that his best blue gems have been stolen!!!


End file.
